


useful

by bicboy



Category: American Dad!
Genre: Dubious Consent, Heavy Petting, M/M, Pining, Premature Ejaculation, Touching, and it shows, i put no work into this whatsoever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-02 08:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18807868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bicboy/pseuds/bicboy
Summary: takes place after that once scene in season 9ish with the candle wax





	useful

**Author's Note:**

> lord have mercy on me i dont know what possessed me to write this. been binge'ing some ol american dad on hulu and got to drinkin one night and that episode ruined me however brief the scenes were lmao. got me to writing and idk why it went on longer than a paragraph. ...enjoy!

"Get out," Roger says, eyes suddenly washed of a previous lustfulness. For Steve it had been the glow of candles and the spontaneous rise of something mutually and bizarrely hidden between them, but for Roger it had only been a reciprocation of emotion and desire. Steve can feel it in the atmosphere. He sits up awkwardly, feeling vulnerable in the sudden light. "Wait, Roger-"

"Steve?" Francine's voice was growing closer. Steven starts to scramble but Roger is smooth and methodical, slipping out of his robe and throwing clothes over his shoulder to the nerd. Steve pulls his clothes on frantically, his heart racing in his ears so loudly he can barely hear his mother's footsteps ascending the attics stairs. " _Roger_ ," he hisses, but the alien ignores him. Steve decides not to look at him again once his mom has come up and found him and ushered him down with conversation about dinner, completely oblivious in her ditsy innocence. 

It was stupid. It was definitely just the candles. It was stupid. 

If it was so stupid, then why couldn't he stop replaying it in his head?

Steve grows obnoxiously uncomfortable. He jitters weirdly around Roger and thinks about hot wax on his back at night when his hands worm under the waistband of his boxers. That first day after Steve had wounded Roger's sexual pride, the alien was only slightly indifferent. But after a few days he seemed to get over it surprisingly well, as if he'd forgotten about it entirely. Steve yearned for that same distance from the ordeal, but instead he was only pining for another chance. He felt unfathomably stupid, but he couldn't deny the pressure in his jeans whenever they were alone  together too intimately. He excused himself whenever Roger got too friendly or too drunk, but finally after what felt like forever he couldn't take it any more. It wasn't going away under ignorance, so he'd have to face his inhibitions and nasty cravings. Just once... But the candles were gone. He couldn't make excuses.

"Roger," he murmurs, nervous, shuffling. Roger looks up from what he's doing. Moving boxes around, pawing through some quickly as if in search of something. Steve didn't bother to examine the scene at all. 

Casually, Roger looks back to his inane process, settling a large box at his feet and huffing. His voice isn't hitched with any suspicion or previously harmed emotion like the young one thought it would be as he bends over the large box, arm deep in its contents. "Hey, Steve. Whatcha want?"

"Uh-um," Steven touches his fingers together, a distraction. His eyes are glued to the swirls of his finger pads as he turns one hand over in the other. "Was just- uh- wondering if maybe uh- it's - see - Wondering-...you know. Just wondering..."

Roger stills with his back turned to Steve and the teenager can't see it but he knows Roger's face is pinched with confusion. "Huh?" He turns around fully and Steve wasn't wrong, but there's a hint of something lying behind the alien's black irisless pupils. They tremble like they might expand and Steve looks away again, hands coming down aggressively to swipe at his hips, rubbing sweat off his palms. Why was he so nervous? What about the night before had driven him with confidence? He supposed at first it was different. It'd been spontaneous but now he was crawling back to beg for more. It was pathetic.

"Ohh, you know-" Steve starts, eyes darting all around. He's looking everywhere but he can't see anything past the steam of his red face fogging his glasses. "Just... hoped we could hang out!"

Roger's eyes narrow. "Uh-huh." His tone is accusatory and there's the beginning of a smug grin somewhere on his thin lips, but he turns back around easily and begins to heft and sift through more large boxes. He settles on one smaller box stacked upon a larger box he'd previously fussed with. Steve doesn't look too closely, but it looks like a mess of wigs. "Hang out? Okay. That it?" Roger's voice was still accusatory, drawn out and sheepish and  _knowing_. Steve swallows thickly.

"Yeah."

The silence that grows between them is infuriating so Steve begins pacing. Roger eyes him patiently, suspicious, and Steve hears himself blurt everything out finally on a breathless rush. "I mean if hanging out leads to something, I don't know, experimental or something, or, I don't know, if you just want to fool around or something I wouldn't mind-"

Roger's laugh is loud and obnoxious but singular and cutting. Steve swallows again but chokes, turning his face away red. He'd stopped pacing but his arms were still flailing about, so he tucks his hands under his armpits, hugging himself. Roger looks him over. "I knew it! You little horndog, you just couldn't stop thinkin' about it, huh?"

"N-n-n-n-nno, it's not like that-" Steve's teeth chatter erratically, a dizzying flush of blood leaving his head in favor of his groin.

"Oh, shut up," Roger lays a hand over Steve's bicep, having to look up at the boy. Steve still felt small though, another wave of dizzying warmth crashing into him. "Y'can't deny it. You all come back for more."

"You all?" Steve parrots, stepping back. He smacks Roger's hand away when it comes searching again. " _We_  all? Who's that?"

Roger scoffs, or snorts, or guffaws. Steve can't read him because he's turned back away, nonchalant and matter of fact as he continues his own thing. "Yes,  _you all_. Klaus, Jeff, Hayley, your mom..." Roger shoots him a dirty and suggestive look, narrowed eyes and lips pulled too far back across his alien teeth sending chills up and down Steve's spine. "Your dad."

"My  _dad_  ?" Steve hoots, stumbling backwards again. The annoying press against his thigh was throbbing inappropriately but seemed to be dying down the more they talked, his heart hammering aggressively against his ribcage. "My dad what?"

Roger stares openly at him from over his shoulder, hands stilled in the box of wigs, and his empty expression breaks again into a vicious grin wordlessly. His eyes move back down into the box and he finds what he's looking for apparently, or something caught his eye. He pulls it onto his head excitedly, revealing golden curls of bouncing soft hair. "Oh, I thought I'd lost this one!"

"My dad  _what_?" Steve asks again, more aggressive this time. He doesn't care about Roger's wig or how it looks on his bald head.

"You know," Roger says, turning back around. The wig was fit to his skull and he brushes loose locks from his face. "What you want. And you  _do_  want to fuck around, right?"

Steve's heart flutters and his dick throbs and his face goes beet red again. "Uh-"

Roger claps his hands together, excited. "Of course you do!"

He starts forward and Steve stalls for a moment, eyes wide as Roger takes off his wig and comes in close, hands snaking under his shirt immediately, cold alien flesh against warm- " _No-_ " He breathes, pushing Roger off, ignoring the swell between his legs. It was coming down on him in full force but he couldn't get out of his own head. "No, I- Ew, my  _dad_?" He thinks for a moment and steps further back but Roger's expression is still smug and teasing, hand dangerously close to finding Steven's hip again. Steve swats it away hesitantly. "My  _ **mom!**_ _ **?**_ "

"Well, yeah," Roger's voice is thick with 'trust me's and 'it'll be okay's but Steve had learned that tone. He was proud of himself, but also genuinely shocked that Steve didn't already know. "Sometimes humans need more than just another human. I'm intergalactic, Steve." His voice lowers an octave as he tips his chinless head down, eyes flashing wild up at Steve. He wiggles his fingers on both hands as he raises them to show Steve. "I can do things none of you can." A hand finds Steve's chest, fingers fanned over his collarbone. "I'm the whole house's friend with benefits."

"SO? Why are you- You shouldn't be- They shouldn't--"

"Oh, who cares?" Roger is grinning metaphorical ear to metaphorical ear as he steps closer to Steve, the wall behind him halting him from backing away any more. Steve doesn't duck away but braces himself against wall, the lowhanging tilt of the ceiling brushing the top of his head as he sucks in a nervous breath. Roger's fingers were like snakes against his ribs, carefully over his shirt this time. Roger continues talking. "Nothin' to be ashamed about. Sometimes we need little gray men to fuck us silly." Steve lets out a hard breath and closes his eyes tight as Roger's hands fondle him, large and strange and foreign and exotic. Even over his clothes he could feel the inhuman. One hand grips at his hip and his voice was beginning to be drowned out by the dizziness fogging Steve's head and the gathering warmth under his naval. "If it makes you feel any better, the arrangements are all always completely string-free."

"St-stop talking," Steve murmurs, hands curling at Roger's shoulders now. His nails dig into leathery alien skin and he can hear the noise Roger makes as he grins wide. The alien continues with his hands, feeling over young human body and feeling the squishy belly above adolescent needy cock. When he leans into Steve to inhale his neediness, he can feel the swell of arousal press firmly against his own stomach. He lets out a reflexive hot noise, in the moment wanting to bury himself on it. That wasn't in the agreement yet though and the alien had no real idea what the boy was expecting.

Apparently he was easy because the moment Roger places his mouth on Steve's neck, there's a familiar spasming against Roger's stomach and a gratifying noise escaping Steve's nose and mouth. He moves desperately and inexperienced against Roger, murmuring sweet nothings as he comes. 

Roger steps back to look over Steve as he slumps, bringing an arm up to steady himself against the attic wall. His breathing is heavy and his eyelids sag, chest heaving. "I-is that it?" He wheezes, his voice pleading. The alien snorts.

"Seems it's all it took," he says, patting Steve's hip. 

**Author's Note:**

> the urge to do not only more of these two in this concept but a stan chapter too is killing me


End file.
